


The 39 Moves

by saphsaq



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rise of Empire Era - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars
Genre: Alfred Hitchcock - Freeform, Chess, F/M, Jackar Turmond, Jedi, Letta Turmond
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-09
Updated: 2013-05-09
Packaged: 2017-12-10 21:51:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/790570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saphsaq/pseuds/saphsaq
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I've seen my Clone Wars cartoons and I can <a href="http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/The_Jedi_Who_Knew_Too_Much#Behind_the_scenes">Hitchcock</a> too. A raw sketch of things which will not happen in episode 19 of season 5 of The Clone Wars. No copyright infringement intended, it's a fan's finger exercise with Star Wars stuff.</p>
<p>Unbetaed, third edition.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The 39 Moves

Ahsoka had a sinking feeling. The dark circle of the pipeline outlet became smaller and smaller while the garbage barge she had jumped on, lowered into one of Corusant's air pits. She still could see the three light figures of her master, Captain Rex and Commander Fox standing there and watching motionless her descent. The next moment there was only her master's presence in the Force visible. Then even that winked out. But Ahsoka knew Anakin trusted her. So did Rex. And Fox eventually would understand.

Yet time was scarce and to be a fugitive, wanted for murder, an obstacle and a disguise as well. If Master Kenobi had felt the same when he tried to foil the kidnapping of Supreme Cancellor Palpatine by infiltrating the gang of Cad Bane? Being hunter and hunted all rolled in one? Absent-mindedly Ahsoka fingered for her lightsabres - only to remember with a sigh that she had lost her shoto during the chase. It was the second time she had lost a lightsabre. And no Master Sinube in sight to help retrieving it. Hopefully Anakin did collect the weapon.

The garbage barge was sinking deeper and deeper, however Ahsoka made her mind up where to go. As much as she felt drawn to the Jedi Temple for a word with a friend, with Barriss Offee or Master Koon, it was impossible. She knew, she was just a pawn in this mystery. Whatever was behind letting her appear responsible for killing the Temple-bomber's wife, it aimed not at her, some insignificant padawan, but at the Jedi as a whole. So she had secluded herself from the herd to lure the enemy away. To hide in the Temple would not quell accusations the Jedi are hypocrites. Quite contrary.

Perhaps she should just continue the way she was on, into Coruscant's underworld, where Letta's and Jackar's home was. Yet, to what end? Together with Master Skywalker she had conducted the search in the bomber's flat. No dirty plate left unturned, no data pad unread. They even had sifted the dust for nano droids. Besides, the landlord certainly would have lent the empty apartment by now, new tenants moving in already.

But then Ahsoka remembered, that with the transfer of Letta Turmond into Republic custody, the files of the incident had been handed over too. And because of the clones killed, Admiral Tarkin had made a point in prosecuting the case personally. The Republic Military Complex! The place of her imprisonment... Yet also the place of Letta's dead. Whoever had Force-choked this poor woman must have been there. And left a trace perhaps. If that haughty Tarkin was behind the plot against the Jedi, the better. “The Admiralty then!” Said Ahsoka. Like obeying the padawan's orders, the barge changed direction, following now a horizontal course.

* * *

Ahsoka pressed the palms against her montrals until the noise of military boots pounding metal was over, then she continued her forward crawl. It had never before occurred to her, how similar the detention unit and the quarters of the soldiers were. But perhaps this feeling of an endless, cold night was just the result of arriving for the talk with Letta late in the afternoon and fleeing not before dawn the other day. She had not seen sun since then.

Noiselessly Ahsoka did lift the cover of the air-condition duct and lowered herself into Admiral Tarkin's quarter. Gently she touched the sensors in the duct through the Force to set them back to normal. There was no video surveillance in the air supply system, but the quality and pressure was monitored though. Even an insect could trigger the alarm, so she had veiled her presence.

The room was clean, uncluttered and not different to those used by the common clone soldier. There where only three things to set it apart: It was a single quarter. It had a huge communications table. And a strange golden box. 

The latter was really outstanding in such an austere place. Probably it would have been in any place. It's lower part had the size of an ammunition box, squatting on clawed feet looking vaguely like those of Rancors. Each of the slightly bulging sides of the box was dressed with plates of embossed metal, their opulent motives dark from age. Atop of this base however was the most strange piece - a figure, a torso of a man, appearing like a crossover of a protocol droid and a Devaronian. Its golden mantle was etched in many ways, imitating artfully woven fabric and tattooed skin. The eyes of the figure were closed, yet through the slits glittered precious stones. Precious stones also reappeared as inlay in front of the figure, forming a chess board.

Ahsoka lifted from a pocket a thing she had found when searching the hallway around the detention cell where Letta Turmond had died. It was a little black chessman, a pawn. It did not match the big, elegant, golden ones sitting at the board on the box. “Well, that would have been too easy.” Ahsoka let roll the little black thing over her palm. She wished she had the psychometric abilities of Obi Wan's friend, of Master Vos. But the communication table should give her access to the files of the bomb incident and its follow up without using the Force aside a bit tinkering with the login. Before putting the thought into action, a faint ultra-sonic echo in her montrals startled Ahsoka. It became an audible sound, drawing closer. It was the same footfall she heard last time while in detention. With a quick glance the padawan gauged the room, then disappeared into a dark nook next to a shelf. Her hand was on the hilt of her lightsabre.

The door opened and in came Admiral Wilhuff Tarkin. Carefully he closed the door. Then he did run with a sigh his hand through the hair. Some auburn strands fell in his high forehead. Briskly he went to the golden box, but stopped without touching it. He contemplated the chess board, hands clasped in his back. And suddenly Ahsoka discovered the admiral could not only smile arrogantly, but delighted too.

Eventually Tarkin dragged himself from the sight of the chess board. Opening his uniform jacket, but not slipping out of it, he sat down at the communication table. Then he removed his boots and stored them as carefully as he had closed the door under the table. A flick at the communicator: “Tea at five.” Tarkin didn't wait for the confirmation of his batman. Now the admiral immersed himself in a datapad. His angular face had again its usual haughty expression with the blue eyes looking down along his sharp nose and his mouth a straight, hard line. Yet after a short while the admiral put the datapad down, shook his head and sighed: “Ahsoka.” He pushed himself up and walked reluctantly over to the golden box where he again seemed to contemplate, this time the digit of his left hand placed over his lips and the right arm supporting the left.

Thunderstruck Ahsoka could not think of any occasion where she had felt tempted to sigh “Wilhuff” as embarrassing as her master's friendship to this man might be. The next shock however hit the padawan completely unprepared - a surge from the Dark Side, suffocating and goading at the same time. As if looking from the wrong side through glasses, she saw a distant Tarkin drawing a chessman and the strange golden figure, coming to life, did likewise. Throwing all plans of waiting until she could conduct a search undisturbed over board, Ahsoka ignited her lightsabre and charged.

“Commander Tano. I can not say that I have been expecting you.” Admiral Tarkin's voice was as cultivated as ever and his eyes cold and carefree. But he moved slowly backwards, evading the humming green tip of the laser which pointed unwavering at his throat. “I suppose I shall now consider myself hostage?” He said, sitting down in his seat at the table.

Ahsoka watchfully positioned herself that he could not reach the communicator or a weapon. “No, I just have some questions, Admiral.”

Wilhuff Tarkin made a nonchalant, inviting gesture.

“Don't you find it peculiar, that of all surveillance videos the one of Letta and me has no sound?”

“Rare, but technical failures happen.” The corners of his mouth turned downwards. “Unfortunately.”

“Indeed. Unfortunately for anybody who would be at the moment of Letta's death with her. But unfortunately for someone else I found this.” On Ahsoka's flat hand laid the black pawn.

Oblivious of the lightsabre still pointing at him, Tarkin bend forward: “You found it?” He took the little figure: “Where?”

Before Ahsoka could answer, it knocked at the door of the quarter. “Deactivate your lightsabre,” Tarkin said under his breath. He leapt from his seat, covering the padawan with his body, arms around her. His mouth was doing a manoeuvre not taught at a military academy or mentioned in the training schedule of any army. Yet one thing was sure, it needed as much practice as a soldier training, to refine it into the perfection Wilhuff Tarkin exercised. Being such shielded, Ahsoka couldn't see the batman entering, she only heard an mumbled rasp: “I'm sorry, Admiral.” Glass clinked, then the door banged shut.

Tarkin released her and sat down again, well behaved and without been pushed by the padawan's lightsabre.

Ahsoka wiped her mouth with the back of a hand: “You did enjoy it!”

“I afraid yes. But,” the admiral cleared his throat, rearranging his legs. He even seemed to have the decency to blush. “But, back to your questions. You're accusing me of letting you appear as responsible for the dead of this suspect by manipulating the surveillance?”

“If the black pawn is yours.”

The admiral admitted calmly: “It is since I won my first game of chess with six. I most likely lost it during the survey of the cell.”

There was this sinking feeling again. Ahsoka fought against it like a climber against a fit of vertigo: “That may be or may not be. But you can't prove it. Like I can't prove my innocence.”

“Young and innocent ---,” responded Tarkin, taking up his pensive pose from before. “So we're in a draw. What now, Commander Tano?”

Embarrassed Ahsoka compressed her lips. Her fingers moved involuntarily into direction of her lightsabre's hilt.

“Thought so. Pluck alone doesn't make you a good soldier.” Tarkin nodded in direction of the datapad on the table: “It is the same with the commandos you execute. A powerful impulse at the beginning, yet combined with a regrettable lack of strategy when the situation develops.” His eyes looked steady and cool at Ahsoka: “But I digress. The strongest argument against your innocence I have told you before. You, a Jedi, did not sense another Force-using person present when Letta Turmond was killed.”

Ahsoka remembered of their confrontation in the detention cell, of Tarkin's hand, seizing her chin and forcing her to look into his face. His finely chiselled features had expressed haughtiness – and disappointment. “But I did sense something.” Ahsoka said quietly.

“So?” The admiral moved to the rim of his seat, curious.

Ahsoka decided to leave any explanation aside: “Since when is this box here? And how far is this place from Letta's cell?”

Wilhuff Tarkin made the conclusion himself: “I received the chess machine as a gift from Chancellor Palpatine the day the Jedi Temple was bombed. And detention is right below. Just two levels down.”

Ahsoka went over to the box, regarding it silently. Appearing at her side Tarkin asked: “When did you sense it?”

“When you did move a stone.”

“Today?”

“Why? Did you play chess the day Letta Turmond died?”

“Everyday,” The admiral's voice sounded matter of fact. “At this certain day it was a game of 39 steps. I replayed it today, to see if there might be the possibility of a modification. However --- there are 37 steps done so far and only two left.”

“I see.” Searching Ahsoka let run her fingers over what appeared a locking mechanism for the box.

“It is jammed. The only part really destroyed of this piece.”

“I will not open it. This is beyond my powers.” The padawan didn't tell, that the Dark Side surge had prompted her almost to kill the admiral – or being killed by him. Even if she could not imagine how all this might play out against the Jedi Order, she was sure it would, if she did not proceed carefully.

“Reinforcements from the Temple then? Master Skywalker?”

This suggestion sounded sensible. Yet remembering how she had already embarrassed her master with her escape, Ahsoka shook violently her head: “I would rather --- can I use your intercom? But only if that wont bring you into trouble!”

A faint smile tugged at Tarkin's lips: “Suit yourself.”

Ahsoka was glad when Barriss appeared in the hologram. The admiral had decently retreated with his now cold tea into the farthest corner of the room. Nevertheless, a good part of the communication of the two girls when telepathic.

'He did what?' Asked Barriss incredulously. 'Like Lux?'

'You can't compare them.'

'But he is thirty years older than you!'

'You wont notice when he kisses.'

Barriss gasped, but said aloud: “I'll see what I can do for you.”

Ahsoka closed the connection. “It will take an hour or so ---,” she said, turning to the admiral.

He seemed not too disappointed: “May I suggest a game of chess then?”

“To improve my strategic thinking?” Ahsoka snorted, suppressing a giggle.

“That could be a side-effect very well.” Tarkin's blue eyes glittered.

* * *

The guard delivered not only Barriss Offee, but also Obi Wan Kenobi. The admiral, now orderly buttoned up and with boots, didn't gave a sign of surprise that there where suddenly more guests than invited.

When the door closed, Ahsoka emerged from her hiding. Barriss ran, grabbing her friends hands: “Oh, Ahsoka! You must forgive me.” The Jedi master however faced Tarkin: “I apologize,” he said, meaning probably both, his unexpected presence and Barriss missing her manners. “But when Padawan Offee spoke with me, I could convince her, it was better to have my company.”

“If it serves the establishing of the truth,” responded Tarkin coolly. “This is the object of interest.” He pointed at the golden box.

Obi Wan stroke his beard. When Ahsoka tried to say something, he gestured her to remain silent. The two Padawan's moved over to the communication table where Admiral Tarkin stood, in his usual pensive pose, a finger closing his lips.

Obi Wan ran his hand hands over the locking mechanism. However unlike the time when Ahsoka had done the same, now from the box sounded a clicking and scratching. 

Suddenly it opened, first the figure falling aside, then all panels lowering. The pale face of Tarkin became a shade more white. When Ahsoka stumbled back, he put his arm around her waist. Barriss covered her mouth with both hands. The surge of the Dark Side was almost palpable.

But it was not that what had shocked Ahsoka. There was another surge, one of regret and pain. A feeling of a great and irrecoverable loss which Obi Wan emanated at the sight of the content of the box. A sight he had encountered too often. The chess machine was not build of mechanics, let alone electronic circuits. It was an empty hull made for Darth Maul's cut-in-half body. The arch-enemy of the Jedi appeared lifeless, his features drawn as after a long lent. But he was not dead. In irregular intervals his chest heaved and his black and red tattoos where as vibrant as freshly applied.

“What will you do with it?” Asked the admiral, recognising the Sith-turned-crime-lord too.

“Label him 'stage freight' and take him with me,” responded the Jedi master prompt but calmly. “As well as Padawan Tano.”

Wilhuff Tarkin didn't take his arm off Ahsoka: “This is still a republic matter.”

Master Kenobi stroke his beard again: “I am not as familiar as you with chess. However, you play Go as well, don't you?”

**Author's Note:**

> First published 02/23/2013 at the [dmeb2](http://www.dmeb2.org/) message board.
> 
> I did celebrate the passing of 100 hits on 08/07/2013 with a completely revised version and I'm repeating that to celebrate the passing of 666 hits yesterday (01/12/2014). The story is still unbetaed though.


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